Rose Ann

“Elizabeth."
I feel my smile on my face as I understand what she is doing. Though it's a strange one, she has a name-sound just like I do, and she's telling me what it is. I try to make the same sounds.
"Ehh..beh." I frown. Why is her name-sound so difficult and so long?
She frowns right back at me and says it again. "Elizabeth."
"Beh-tah-babaa."
She sighs and her forehead wrinkles.
"Elizabeth. Eeee-lizzzz-ahh-beth."
"Laahh...baaay."
She taps her chest again.
"Beth!"
The sound is shorter but still very odd.
"Beh-bet."
"Beth," she repeats.
I've had enough. I reach out and touch her should.
"Beh."
"Beth."
I tap her a little harder and growl.
"Beh", I repeat. I tap her again. "BEH!"
Her eyes widen a bit, and she inhales sharply. A moment later, her shoulders drop and she sighs.
"Beh," she says quietly.”
― Shay Savage, Transcendence

“A lady's imagination is very rapid; it jumps from admiration to love, from love to matrimony in a moment.”
― Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

“I will not share you." Still holding his gaze, she drove her body down onto his. Tiny threads of lightning danced over his skin in a shocking web of blue-white light. He gave a choked cry. His spine arched. His buttocks clenched tight. The tendons in his neck stood out like cords of steel. His hips surged again, powerfully, rising up to meet her downward slide. She felt the shock of it to her bones.
"I will not share," she cried out fiercely, one final time as both of them shattered.”
― C.L. Wilson, The Winter King

“Memories are fragile things to hold, but many times, it's what we have.”
― Ann Howard Creel, The Magic of Ordinary Days